


The One Meant For Me

by Wealthywetsunny



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: AUs, Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Pain, soulmate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-28 15:27:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20780825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wealthywetsunny/pseuds/Wealthywetsunny
Summary: A collection of different soulmate aus





	1. PolySeed/Rook

**Author's Note:**

> An au where everyone has a counter on their wrist that counts down to the moment they meet their soulmate

Rook scratched at her wrist subconsciously, huffing out a paranoid breath. This was fine. Everything was fine. Even if the turmoil in her head blocked out everything else going on. 

Including the briefing Whitehorse was giving her. 

“Rook?”

Her head snapped up, brows raised in question just as the video playing in front of her turned to static. 

“There’s no reception this far out. But I think you got the gist.”

She nodded, handing back the tablet. Praying she wasn’t too pale after what she just saw. Her fingers twitched again, leg bouncing nervously as she watched the scenery pass by. Mountains and rolling plains and flowery fields. And in the center of it all a goddamn shrine. A statue fifty spanning feet up. 

_ Please don’t let it be a cultist. Please don’t let it be some crazy, devout worshiper.  _

Whitehorse saw right through the facade she put up. Too many years on her. “You alright Rookie?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have brought the probie,” Pratt chimed in, a smile tipping his lips up as he turned to catch her gaze. There was absolutely no heat behind his words, he must’ve seen the concern dancing behind her eyes.

She tried to smile, knowing it looked strained. She had bigger things to worry about then getting shot tonight, bigger things then taking down someone with a reputation like Joseph Seed’s and getting her name splashed on the front page. Her heart pounded in tandem with the clock on her wrist; ticking down the seconds. 

5 more minutes. 

The ride to his church would only take three more. That’d leave two minutes for her soulmate to show his face, and they were deep in Peggie county. 

All the things she heard about this man’s church, his cult, it wasn’t something she wanted to be apart of.

She checked her wrist two more times before they landed. Two minutes twenty nine seconds. 

“In and out Rook, easy. C’mon.” Whitehorse clapped her on the shoulder, squeezing lightly. He could sense her unease. How she inched closer to him and Hudson as people screamed and yelled at them from all angles to go back to wherever they came from. 

God if they only knew how little she wanted to be here. 

Did her soulmate know? Had they been lying awake at night the same as her for the past week? Were they in that church up ahead, scared at the prospect of meeting someone new when they no doubt heard the approach of a helicopter meant to arrest their idol? Were they afraid Eden’s Gate wouldn’t accept an outsider? 

“You go in, Rook, I’ll keep watch out here,” Hudson said, hefting her shotgun closer as she shot a glance over the yard. 

Her head bobbed again. Hand on her hip, near her service weapon, cringing when Burke swung the doors wide. The booming voice from inside got louder, making her antsy as she forced her feet to move. 

The only light came from an arrangement of precariously placed candles and a window in the shape of their strange cross. It made those standing on stage look angelic.

Her heart rate stilled just so when they came to a stop. Even with her nerves bouncing around inside her, she felt...at ease. Strangely calm in their presence. 

Which should have scared her after everything she’s heard. Because rumors like the kind floating around the Seeds weren’t all baseless. The proof was everywhere around them. From dozens of men and women gone missing to the green barrels she saw walking in. 

Then there was the timer on her wrist. Pulse hammering wildly when she locked eyes with Joseph Seed. Just the look he held, the power he possessed—sending his people away with nothing more than a simple glance—made her knees weak. 

He offered his hands with a downward tip of his head. There was a moment of hesitation on her part. Being put on the spot like that, too new to the job to snap back at Burke, made her pause. His family was lingering behind him, staring her down,  _ daring  _ her to make a move. To snap those cuffs on their brothers' wrists. 

“You can still walk away. I’m a man of mercy and I don’t want this to go any further than it needs to.” 

Her eyes fell to the floor, flinching at Burke’s voice echoing through the church, egging her on. When she drew her gaze back up, she went slow. Took in the words low on his belly that looked etched into his skin.

_ Lust.  _

Past the rough looking scar on his ribs that made her wince, and the tattooed crown on his chest. Up and up until she found more words. Slanted across his sternum, crudely written out. Definitely not a tattoo.

_ Sloth.  _

She traced the opposing birds on his collarbone and reached his eyes. Calculating and cool. Not nearly as threatening as the people behind him. 

Burke grew impatient again, stepping forward. “Fucking hell Rook, the fuck are you waiting for?”

Rook pulled the cuffs from her waist, cringing at how they almost slipped from her hands. She grabbed at his wrist, feeling his pulse jump beneath her touch. Her hands wandered up, a little too high to be professional. Her thumb dug into the tattoo on his forearm, a woman she didn’t recognize, that only drew her attention for a moment. What really caught her stare was the blinking timer on his wrist. 

00:00

“Wha—“

“Please don't do this. Rook, is it? I don’t want to see you hurt.” 

She pulled her own wrist up, brows furrowing. Because it couldn’t be. No, no, no. Not now. But the proof was there. Right on her skin. The same as his. 

00:00

“Joseph?” The man to his left stepped forward, a hand settling on his shoulder. Looking as confused as she felt. There was more acceptance in his eyes when he put two and two together than she could muster.

“Oh, would you look at that.” He was a head shorter than Joseph, but just as dangerous, she knew that. The pull she felt to him was real though. Just as real as the pull she felt towards Joseph. Strong enough to make her sway where she stood. This wasn’t how this was supposed to be, meeting your soulmate made you feel giddy, dizzy almost. This was different though. It was too much at once. 

He rolled up the sleeve of his coat with a flourish, showing it off to her. 

00:00 

A blank timer surrounded by dozens of tattoos.

The feeling inside her was overwhelming. Like there were hundreds of souls trying to merge with hers. 

Whitehorse came forward same as the mystery man in front of her. One of his brothers—the briefing was quick. They weren’t supposed to take this long. “Rook, want to tell me what’s going on?”

“I’m sorry.” Said to her boss, her mentor, her friends who were waiting outside in enemy territory. Because she couldn’t leave. Not when her soul was connected here and now. 

“Come here Jacob, don’t be rude. Come meet our ‘other half.’”

The last man lingering in the shadows stepped forward with a sort of shaky confidence. “So this is who we’ve been waiting for all this time?” He reached out, a single finger tipping her chin up until she was forced to meet his eyes. “Welcome home, Rook.” 


	2. John/Rook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flowers bloom from your skin where your soulmate has been injured

When she was a kid, six years old was a magical time. The time where she heard all sorts of fairy tales about soulmates. Where she sat perched on the counter begging her mother to tell her the story of how she knew her father was the one God meant to be hers for the millionth time. She was just old enough to believe that it’d be the best thing in the world to have a soulmate. 

It took about two years after that for her to hate her soulmate with a passion.

Flowers were quick to bloom from her skin, not wasting any time ruining the softness of a child’s flesh. Flowers and vines that stretched along the expanse of her back in long thin strokes. Moving over her shoulder blades in criss cross patterns. 

Rook didn’t think about it then--too naive, too involved in a picture perfect family such as her own--but it was hard to put a name on what kind of injury someone could have sustained for her body to form flowers like it did.

It was almost weekly that it happened. Another flower, another vine, something to make her curious as she grew up. And when she got older, when six turned to fifteen and she was more than old enough to understand how awful the world could be, her thoughts turned dark. His injuries weren’t an accident, it couldn’t be.

Perhaps the flower on her knees and elbows, the one on her cheek, that could be explained away. The misgivings of any child who tripped and fell on the playground. The same happened to her, she almost felt sorry for giving her soulmate those marks when he had so many scars it would seem. 

Lord knows they didn’t deserve that. No one did. No one that young. 

But she didn’t deserve to look like a fucking forest either. She had every right to be angry, especially when so many never even had a happy ending with their soulmate. Rook could cross paths with them and never know, and that made her angriest of all. That after all they’ve put her through that it would never pay off. It’d never be worth it.

She tore the flowers from her skin late one night, years later when she grew angrier and more resentful. Senior prom was coming up and her friends kept inviting her to parties and it was fucking hot outside. She was sick of covering up her skin, ashamed of what her body had become with no fault of her own. 

Rook was well aware that doing what she was would cause so much pain to whoever was on the receiving end of her soul. The one who planted those flowers would feel like he’d be ripping apart at the seams. 

But she was a kid and so damn selfish. 

Her flowerless life lasted a week. And she grew mad all over again. It wasn’t until she was older, nearing her mid twenties, that she got concerned again. When she traced the strange patterns of flowers that adorned her skin. They were words.

_ Sloth.  _

Right over her chest. She knew God well. She knew of the cardinal sins. “Fuck.” She traced those words with her finger and cried herself to sleep. 

She took a blade to her skin the next day. Wrote on her hip the words  _ sorry. _ Hopeful that he’d get the message. 

It was hard to forget about her soulmate. When she went to college and found her first apartment she couldn’t forget. Not when splattering of flowery bursts exploded against her skin to substitute bruises. Ones on her inner thigh and on her hip and on her neck. 

Hickies. 

Her soulmate was a slut. That made her laugh humorlessly. Two could play that game. 

She had a few partners in the past years. Nothing more than inexperienced boys. Times where they were both teenagers trying to figure things out. Now though she found real men. Those who were rough and unapologetic about it. She wanted her soulmate to know what she was getting up to. That she could replace him. 

The next day when she woke with a stranger and sore, another flowery word appeared on her bicep.  _ Lust _ . So he had a sense of humor. 

Getting a job was harder than it had any right to be. The looks of pity people gave tore her apart. She hoped her soulmate was living in the slums, because if he got a job better than hers she’d be livid. The only reason she got turned down was because of the flowers covering her body. People were uncomfortable looking at them. He was destroying her. 

Whitehorse accepted her gladly. Though she assumed that was out of desperation. Not like she could complain. She took it just to pay her rent. And when an arrest warrant showed up tacked to the billboard in the rec room she was bouncing with joy. Lots of money for such a dangerous job. They’d pick up this Joseph Seed and let the feds deal with him. They’d go home and be paid a full day’s work. Easy pickings. 

Rook didn’t think a thing could go wrong. She wasn’t even wary of the flowers sprouting out of her. Her uniform hid them well enough. 

Maybe not the ones on her neck or wrists, but it did the job well enough. 

Right before they swung open the church doors she caught Whitehorse’s eyes down on the open V of her shirt. Right where it read  _ Sloth.  _

The Seeds would have to deal with it. 

Oh and how they dealt with it. 

Though it was dark, she could pinpoint the exact moment Joseph saw all her pain. The flowers bursting their way past her sleeves and the word on her chest. His hands, once raised in submission, reached further out to cup her cheek like a caring father. 

Ironic really. But it made her tremble all the same. Because where were her parents when she was suffering, displaced by the rest of the world just because her soulmate knew harm worse than she could imagine.

“Oh, Deputy.” His eyes stayed on her chest. Brows furrowed. “This is truly fate. Can’t you feel it?” At that she was quiet. Unsure of how she was meant to respond. Unsure of what the hell he was going on about. 

He turned towards his family, catching the eyes of the youngest. John Seed if she remembered correctly. All swagger and illegal activities. 

“John, the time has come to pass, brother. Just as I told you.” Even with his head turned over his shoulder she could see the slight smug smile on his lips. “And you didn’t believe me.”

John (She was right then) hesitated. A nervous laugh escaping his lips as he twirled his hands in front of him. 

“Step forward.” Burke snapped again, his hand moving to his service weapon. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on here and frankly I don’t care.” His tone was harsh, his whole demeanor black. It made John pause, arm’s dropping back to his side before self consciously rubbed at his exposed chest. For the first time she noticed that his shirt was left open for all to see. 

_ Sloth.  _

Rook breathed in deep. Eyes fluttering shut. Fuck. Fuck no. No, no, no. Not now. Not  _ him.  _ That monster. Arguably worse than Joseph, the one they came here for in the first place. 

Burke was speaking again before she could sort of her feelings. “Rook. Cuff him.” 

“No.” It was John. Stepping in front of his brother, his whole body trembling. Shaking as if afraid. Afraid of her? It didn’t seem possible, but then again it would be terrifying for someone to look in your eyes and know all your pain. 

And he had a lot of pain. He knew more than she had ever hoped to know. She was angry and scared and he didn’t have the right to be sharing her feelings. 

“...Rook?” His eyes—the brightest blue she’s ever seen—flicked down to her name tag on her breast. “Hi.” 

If she wasn’t in the situation she was in now, if she met him somewhere else, she’d laugh at his introductory. It was cute. The nervousness spilling from his every pore. 

But he killed...hadn’t he?

_ All rumors. That’s all they were.  _

He looked harmless. Maybe a little cocky at first glance. But otherwise just a normal man. A normal man bound to her soul who gave her the scars she had today. 

“Hi, John.” 

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the moment Whitehorse put two and two together. The slight inhale and the step back he took. With a glance and a nod of his head he got Burke to follow. 

“I’m sorry,” Rook spoke, her head turning to find Whitehorse’s gaze. “I didn’t...I didn’t think…” she couldn’t find the words. Tears bubbling up to the surface, blurring her world.

Then she felt a warmth engulf her. Two strong arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her back against his chest. She breathed in deep, smelling the sickly sweet scent of cologne. 

John. Holding her close like they’ve known each other for ever. 

John, who in the next instant, brandished a pistol. He held it in stable fingers, no longer shaking. A look of determination singed across his face. “Step back.”

“Are you serious?” It was Burke again, laughing as he spoke. “Am I the only sane one here right now?” He threw his arms wide, eyes boring into Whitehorse. “Sheriff, get your Deputy.” 

But Whitehorse knew. He saw the marks of sloth drawn on them both. How John was oh so protective of her. “She’s not mine anymore.” 


	3. Jacob/Rook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A soulmate au soulmates can hear, in their heads, music their soulmate is singing or humming

Whoever her soulmate was, they were starting to scare her. Making her jumpy and paranoid whenever she was out destroying cult property. When she was meant to be taking down Joseph's operation she couldn’t help but wonder who God intended her to be with. 

The taste he had in music wasn’t bad, just different. Like he wasn’t born in the right time period, oldies playing off in his head. It hadn’t bothered her before, when she grew old enough to take value in the songs he liked. She actually enjoyed his view in music, so very different to her own. Sometimes she wondered if he ever hated the songs she listened to, pop and hip-hop. Newer ones featured on the radio and scoring on top 100 lists. 

Now that she was in Hope though, surrounded by crazies, she was terrified. The music that popped around her soulmates head reverberated in her own. And they all focused on the same damn thing. 

Eden’s Gate. 

The same songs blaring on their confined radios is what she heard in her head. It was a Romeo Juliet story if she ever saw one. Except one of them would probably kill the other. They were on different sides of the same war. 

Rook found her way to Joseph’s barbed wire compound late one night. Unable to sleep because her soulmate never seemed to sleep either, probably listening to music while he worked. 

It was laughably easy to infiltrate his base. To scale the fence and dodge his faithful until she eased the heavy wooden doors of his church open. Despite it nearing midnight people were still inside. 

The Father himself stood on stage, a small gathering of his people hanging onto his every word in a circle. He spoke softly, soft enough for her to realize he wasn’t preaching. Just speaking, aiding his people late at night. 

She hid behind the pews, not close enough to hear. Because she had every intention of talking to the man himself, she didn’t need it listen in on his conversations. She had thousands of questions that needed answering. Surely if someone thought she was their soulmate, the harbinger of the end, they’d have a chat with their Father. 

When they filed out Rook held her breath. Waiting for him to come down the aisle for her to catch him. 

“You can come out now.”

_He doesn’t know. He can’t. He’s paranoid and making sure no one’s sneaking around._

“Rook. You needn’t hide from me. You’ve come here for a reason. Don’t be shy, come speak to me.” 

Fuck.

She stood slowly, her hand hovering over her pistol. He tracked her movements and sighed. 

“There’s no need for that.”

“I—“ her eyes slammed shut. Body going tense. She was tired and scared and this was such a stupid idea. “I have a problem.”

Joseph only quirked an eyebrow. Curiously tilting his head at her. Encouraging her to continue. 

“It’s my soulmate.”

He smiled at that. Daring to walk towards her, reaching out to grab her hands and pull them both into the open aisle. “You’ve met your soulmate?” 

“No. Not exactly. But...he’s here. I’m sure of it. And I don’t think I want him.”

Joseph was left floundering. Fingers squeezing hers tight. She always assumed he was good at soothing people, easing their fears and making everything okay. She guess no one’s ever come to him with this kind of problem. 

“But he’s your other half. The one God intends you to be with. What could possibly be so bad about him?”

“He’s one of yours.” She hissed. Pulling back and spinning on her heel. She flung her hands up to tug at her hair, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. 

When she glanced over her shoulder she saw a tiny smile on his face, his head tipped up towards the heavens, mumbling some sort of prayer. When he refocused back on her he laughed. “This is perfect. Don’t you see, Rook? This can bridge the gap between Eden’s Gate and the resistance.” 

She was quiet, and relief hit her so hard because it occurred to her all at once that he wasn’t her soulmate. He was surprised. Acting like this was new information. Thank god. Turns out He was merciful after all. She didn’t think she could live with herself if she was meant to be with a cult leader. She could barely take some low level grunt. 

“That’s not what’s gonna happen. You’re naive to think that.” She whispered. 

“The resistance listens to you, they owe it to you. And my followers listen to me. We can change a lot here. The bloodbath can end.” 

He was speaking crazy again. Making her seethe. She was stupid coming here, thinking she’d find answers. She went to storm out, a hand on the wooden door before she spoke again. “Just, answer me this Joseph. Has anyone, anyone at all, spoken about me? Have they mentioned having a soulmate belonging to the resistance.”

“It happens a lot more than you’d think.”

Her eyes slammed shut, finally letting out her tears. She slipped out into the night with a mumbled thank you. 

*****

Joseph must’ve spoke to his brothers about what she asked him that night in his church. Because when John got his hands on her he was _excited _. Absolutely bursting to speak to her. And not about sin. 

He came bouncing through the door, whistling softly and shooting her a wink. That was telling in itself.

Rook breathed out a sigh, her muscles going lax. It wasn’t him. He had come in whistling, he had been thinking of some sort of song and that song wasn’t reverberating around her head. 

It was just some peggie. Not a high status maniac. She could breathe easy again. 

“Deputy, what a pleasure to have you here again in my company. Right where you belong might I add.”

“Fuck off John, not in the mood.”

He pouted at her, hip jutting out with a huff. “Oh that’s no way to speak to me, dear.”

She leaned forward in her bonds, a glare heavy in her eyes. “And why’s that?”

He smiled. Giddy for once. And if she hadn’t been stressing for the past month she’d feel sorry for him. He obviously didn’t have a soulmate of his own, and he thought she was it. That she could heal his broken parts like soulmates were meant to. 

Wrath only fuels Wrath. They never would’ve worked. 

“Well…” He drew his words out, slamming down on his knees to get eye level with her. “That’s because Joseph told me everything.” His finger, shaky as all hell, reached out to brush back a curl from her face. “You’re mine, and you’ve been running from me this whole time. Such a stubborn girl, aren’t you?”

“You must be desperate to think that.”

He pursed his lips. Eyes scanning over her face. “This is a cruel joke.”

“Let. Me. Go.” She snarled through gritted teeth. Done with his games. It was clear the only reason she was here was because he thought they were soulmates. 

John stood up quick. Fingers tightening into fists. “I’m going to make you bleed. You’re going to fucking scream, Deputy. Right until you stop playing these mind games. 

He was true to his word. Etching words into her skin with a sharp blade. Liar on her rib cage. Temptress stretching between her shoulder blades. Pride on her inner thigh. He tossed her out of his bunker after that. After she sat limp in her chair with mouth still clamped shut. He let her go with a growl to never come back. 

She’d do so gladly. 

*****

_Only you...can make the darkness bright. _

_Only you…_

Replaying over and over and over in her head. She knew what that meant. She knew who was behind it. She just wasn’t sure _he _knew it. Rook had a feeling he’d be acting a hell of a lot more smug about it. It’d be something more to tease her about, another thing to string her along. 

She whined, burying her head in her folded arms. Trying to sleep despite the gnawing pit in her stomach demanding food. 

“Still with us, dep?” The clanging of his boot against the metal bars drilled in her head, making her curl further into herself. She was hardly a threat to him, which is why he popped open her cage and strolled in without a care in the world. 

That almost made her want to cry. 

Their special song was still playing off in her head, coming right from his own. He reached in his pocket to reveal the wooden box she came to know so well. “You know what’s coming next, soldier.” He rumbled out. Making chills run up her spine. “This is what, your sixth time now? I bet your body knows the routine now. I bet your muscles are already itching to move and you can’t figure out why. C’mon, make me proud this time.”

The first few notes played out as he whistled softly along. The song in her head came to life in front of her despite his lips staying still. It couldn’t get anymore clear than that. 

_It was him. _

_He was hers. _

_She was his. _

“Wait!” Suddenly she was moving. Scrambling forward on hands and knees, seeing the curious raise of his eyebrows. “W-wait. Listen.” Out of instinct she clapped the music box closed, knocking it from his palm and drowning them in silence. Even the song in her head stopped. 

For that he hit her. Hard. Used the back of his hand to strike her cheek and send her sprawling to the floor. 

Her brows scrunched. Conjuring up a song from her childhood. One she played on repeat to try to ease the painful, melancholy songs her soulmate would listen to. One she hoped and prayed he would recognize. 

The first few keys played out with her face stuck in the dirt. Content that he had heard her song clearly. She felt a hand on the small of her back. 

“Rook…” 

She didn’t move. Too scared, still reeling from his hit and the conditioning. 

“Rook, look at me,” Jacob said softly, his voice dangerous and on edge. She did as he asked only out of fear. Knowing full well she was too weak to resist. 

Their eyes met and in them she saw guilt. Endless waves of guilt that made her soul rip into shreds. 

“Oh. Oh, honey, c’mere.” He was gathering her in his arms. Crowding her on his lap and laying kisses on the crown of her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know.” Rook closed her eyes. Nuzzling into his chest, desperate to seek out some sort of warmth after countless nights spent on the muddy ground. 

And on and on like that.

“I’m sorry. So fucking sorry.” 


End file.
